I can’t complain. My kidney-cancer diagnosis was on October 1st. I had a CAT-Scan, a Cystoscopy and PET Scan done, and I will probably have my surgery – called a simple nephrectomy, the removal of the entire organ – done within the next two weeks. Given what other cancer patients have to endure often over the course of many years, it seems that I will get away fairly easily.

What concerns me the most at this point is Ann’s PET Scan. We should receive the result tomorrow and I am scared. Even though there is not the slightest indication, that there is anything going on at this point anywhere in her body that would give cause for concern. But that’s the problem with cancer. It doesn’t tell you as it starts growing:

"Hey, I’m right here, I cause you discomfort and pain, so go and see a doctor now."

No, it sits there quietly and often develops painstakingly slow and unnoticed; until – many times by sheer accident - it is eventually being discovered.

We yesterday saw an old movie called “Marvin’s Room”. I’ve seen it before, years ago and back in Germany, of course in its dubbed version. I can’t remember how I felt the first time I saw it, but yesterday it made me cry. All the angst emerged from I don’t know where and all of a sudden I felt trapped again in this spiral of fear and insecurity. The worst thing that could ever happen to me is losing my wife. She’s my foundation. Everything I do is in one way or the other linked to her. She’s my soul-mate. She is the reason why I’m here.

I try to remind myself of the blood-test she just got back a few days ago and everything across the board looks great. And I try to keep Sally’s words in mind, not to worry about anything I don’t know for sure. I’m doing a pretty good job with that most of the time.

But sometimes it just gets me.